


Do You Want to Believe?

by FootlessData507



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Choose Your Own Adventure, F/M, Humor, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-03 00:38:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 36
Words: 10,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FootlessData507/pseuds/FootlessData507
Summary: In this choose-you-own-adventure story, you the reader can control Mulder or Scully as they go about their day. Will they find proof of alien life? A government conspiracy? True love? Their untimely deaths? Or will they just sit around their basement office doing tedious paperwork? You get to decide!





	1. Start

**Author's Note:**

> At the end of every chapter, you will be given a choice. Just follow your choice and watch the story unfold. At the end of each path you will also receive an ending score just because assigning a bunch of arbitrary numbers seemed like a fun thing to do.
> 
> Also, if you would like to suggest alternate choices, go ahead and do so. I make no promises, but I might be able to make some extra paths.
> 
> Finally, this story was a heck of a lot of work, particularly getting the links working, which was something I'd never done before. I tried my best, but if any of the links are messed up or just plain missing, please let me know and I will fix them.

You groan as your alarm blares. It's time for work. Another day in the basement. Or running through the woods. Or skulking in a parking garage. Whatever.  
  
It's too early to remember what you have on the agenda today.  
  
You stretch your limbs, let out one last yawn, and rise from your...  
  
[Bed](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29317602) OR [couch?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29047911)


	2. Couch

You whistle on your way to the Hoover Building. Why shouldn’t you whistle? You are a straight, well-educated, white American male in your thirties. You feel relevant and vital.  
  
“Stand aside!” your stride seems to say. “For I am a straight, well-educated, white American male in my thirties!” Nodding at a perfect stranger on the street, your body language adds, “And I grew up on Martha’s Vineyard!”  
  
However, your relevance and vitality diminish somewhat when you enter the Hoover Building, and diminish even more when you reach the audiovisual equipment room and are informed by Marge that you can’t have the good projector today because the Financial Crimes section needs it. Instead, your lot is the old projector from the Eisenhower administration that is constantly breaking down.  
  
This won’t do! You need to show Scully a lot of pictures of crop circles!  
  
Do you…  
  
  
[Take the crummy projector](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29343096) OR 

[Try to charm Marge into giving you the good projector?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29340741)

  



	3. Bed

Mulder's already in the basement when you arrive, naturally. He nods at you as you enter and returns his attention to the projector.  
  
This can only mean one thing: Mulder's got a slideshow.  
  
You hold back a groan and sit against Mulder's desk because he still hasn't gotten you a desk of your own.  
  
"I've got some files I need to run to Skinner," you tell him. You nod to the projector. "Is this going to take much longer?"  
  
Mulder shrugs. "It shouldn't..." he murmurs. "I think I've almost got it, even though this projector dates back to the Eisenhower administration...Damnit!" A piece of the projector has come off in his hand and he ineffectively tries to pound it back into the machine, spitting some profanity directed to the financial crimes section for taking the good projector. It also looks like he has cut himself on the broken projector.  
  
Okay Scully, looks like you've got some time on your hands. What do you do?  
  
[Run those files to Skinner's office](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29317749)   
  
[Stare at Mulder for a while](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29341956)   
  
[Look through that IKEA catalog for a desk](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29342454)


	4. Run Files to Skinner's Office

The smell of tobacco greets you as you enter Skinner’s office. Skinner sits at his desk and shoots you a warning look.

  
“Ah, Agent Scully,” you hear a man say. 

  
You whip around to see the Smoking Man step out from behind the door. Was he just standing behind the door? Just waiting for you to enter?

  
“So nice to see you again,” he says, letting out a long exhale of smoke.

  
Crap. It’s a mythology plot. You try desperately to remember where you left off on the disappearance of Mulder’s sister.

  
“Sir.” You give the Smoking Man a terse nod and step over to Skinner’s desk, dropping off your paperwork. You try not to let on that your mind is whirling through the summers and mid-season finales of your recent few years. Have you and Mulder proven that the Smoking Man was behind Samantha’s disappearance yet? Whatever happened to that oil? And was Krycek working for the Smoking Man or the Russian government? 

  
And those goddamn bees—what were those about?

  
“It’s fortunate that you happened to stop by,” the Smoking Man said, taking another luxurious drag from his cigarette. “I have an assignment for you and your…partner.”

  
“I believe Agent Mulder and I are already on assignment, sir,” you reply. You glance at Skinner, who nods.

  
“I just cleared them for a case in Iowa,” Skinner backs you up. 

  
The Smoking Man ignores this. He hands you a phone number scrawled on a blank business card. “You and Agent Mulder will be at the Jefferson memorial tonight. Call this number at 9:53 pm precisely,” he orders you. He stubs his cigarette out in Skinner’s World’s Best Uncle mug and walks out of the room.

  
You stare at the business card in your hand.

  
Do you…

  
[Tell Mulder](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29318553) or

  
[Just throw the thing away. You hate mythology episodes.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29330940)


	5. Tell Mulder

            “Fantastic!” Mulder enthuses when you tell him. “A mythology episode!” He grabs the business card from your fingers and jams it into his pocket. “Let’s roll!”

            Grabbing your hand, he yanks you from your basement office, and in a whirl you two are now standing in the Jefferson Memorial at precisely 9:53 pm. How the time has flown by.

            “You ready for this, Scully?” Mulder demands, not listening for your answer before he dials the number on his cell phone.

            There is a ringing nearby. You and Mulder walk outside of the memorial, following the ringing to a tree. At its base, you can see a metal box.

            Mulder leans over the box, obscuring it from your view, and opens it.

            “Holy Anunnaki…” he says.

            You have to shove Mulder to the side to get a good look at what’s inside the box.

            It’s a note that says, “Look behind you.”

            The two of you whip around to see a figure step out of the shadows. It’s an older man wearing a dark trench coat. He has a fabulous mustache.

            “I see you got my note,” he rasps.

            “I don’t understand,” you say slowly. “You put that note in there for us to find? Why not just speak to us as soon as we arrived at the memorial? This whole thing seems needlessly convoluted.”

            “Well,” the man steps closer to you, “this _is_ a mythology episode.”

            He’s not _wrong._

            “Why did you arrange this meeting?” Mulder demands. “Are you working with our black-lunged friend?”

            “Patience, Agent Mulder,” the man says, slowly stroking his mustache. “All will be revealed in—”

            “What did you do with my sister, you _bastard?!”_ Mulder screams, jumping to the man and punching him square on the jaw.

            Okay, so this seems a _little_ extreme, but you all knew this was how it was going to go.

            The man stumbles back and glares at Mulder. “Calm down, jeez.” He rubs his jaw. “I’m not involved in the sister plot. This is an episode about the bees.”

            Mulder leaps forward and socks the man again. “Those damn bees nearly killed Scully!” he screams.

            Okay, Scully, it’s time for you to step in here. How do you want to play this?

            [Back Mulder up](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29318805) OR

            [Calm Mulder down](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29319267)


	6. Back Mulder Up

            “Yeah!” you yell, rushing forward and stomping on the man’s foot. “And those damn bees are responsible for _years_ of unresolved sexual tension!”

            “Years!” agrees Mulder, pulling the man up and punching him again. “It’s ridiculous! We’re going to have a _baby_ together and there will still be ‘will they/won’t they’ drama!”

            “We’re going to have a reunion series over a decade from now!” you scream, kicking the man’s stomach. “And there’s _still_ going to be ‘will they/won’t they’ drama!”

            “Agh!” the man yelps. He’s now hugging himself, ineffectively attempting to shield himself from the volley of kicks you and Mulder are giving him. “Stop it—I—you could just get together _now!”_

You and Mulder stop kicking him, the truth of the man’s words sinking in.

You and Mulder stare at each other. You can see the passion, the longing, the love in his eyes—the same passion, longing, and love that roils inside of you.

You take one of Mulder’s hands—he places his other hand on your hip and leans closer to you—

            And then you and Mulder are attacked by a swarm of bees.

            Damn bees.

            You have reached THE END of this path. You have an ending score of +30 because you and Mulder are both hospitalized from the bees, and then you have to do a bunch of bee-related mythology nonsense, but at least you addressed the elephant in the room.


	7. Calm Mulder Down

            “Calm down, Mulder!” You grab the arm Mulder had raised for another punch. “We need to find out what this man wants with us!”

            “Yes!” the man gasps. “Listen to her!”

            Mulder takes a deep breath and slowly lowers his arm. You hold onto it, just in case he’s tempted to start punching things again.

            The man starts talking about those bees and—

            Look, do you really want me to explain what’s going on with those bees? I mean, does anyone care about those bees beyond the fact that one of them stung Scully in the movie? Are you going to make me actually look up what was going on with those damn bees so I can create some semi-convincing mythology-plot-mumbo-jumbo for the purpose of a _choose your own adventure X-Files fanfiction?_

            [Nah, that’s okay, you can skip this nonsense and get to the exciting stuff](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29320557) OR

            [Actually, yes, I insist you create some bee-related nonsense. You shouldn’t have dug yourself into this hole if you weren’t willing to look up “bees” on the X-Files wiki and do some research.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29319876)


	8. Hold on a Minute while I Google "X-Files Bees"

            You’re going to be this way? Really?

            Fine.

            Okay, so apparently the way the bees tied in with the X-Files mythology was that they spread the small pox and alien virus disease.

            Oh God, does this mean I have to look up what was going on with the alien virus, too?

            No, I am not doing that. Look, I watched the X-Files for fun cases of the week and MSR UST. I am _not_ untangling the mythology of that freaking alien virus, which I dimly recall involved Mulder passed out on a crucifix-shaped table next to a cackling Smoking Man as Diana Fowley looked on, regretting every choice she had made that had taken her to that absolutely bonkers scene.

            Anyway…back to the Jefferson Memorial…

            So the man with the luxurious mustache shakes his shoulders, eyes Mulder reproachfully, and begins his explanation.

            “You may recall that bees were used to spread the small pox and alien virus disease,” he begins.

            “Yes,” Mulder replies, who can keep track of this show’s confusing mythology thanks to his eidetic memory, “I _do_ remember that.”

            “Well,” the man says, “we’ve recently discovered that a population of those bees have mutated, and they are infecting the population with a new strain of the alien virus and—”

            See, this is normally the point in the episode where my attention would start to wander and I would start evaluating Mulder and Scully’s wardrobe.

            So I’ll make things exciting.

            All of the sudden, an explosion blasts behind you, rocking the foundation. You, Mulder, and the mustachioed man slam to the ground, and you watch as angry orange fire roars through the memorial’s cherry blossom trees.

            You jump to your feet and start to run away, but you’re still holding onto Mulder, and he won’t budge. He’s staring at the fire with wide, fearful eyes.

            “I can’t move!” he gasps. “I’m pyrophobic!”

            See, _that’s_ the kind of stupid stuff I _can_ remember, even if the show doesn’t! So now you’re stuck with a petrified Mulder as a fire rampages around you.

            Also Mulder is colorblind, but that’s not relevant to this scene.

            You manage to pull Mulder to safety, but it takes a while, and you and Mulder both have to be hospitalized for smoke inhalation. The mustachioed man ran away as soon as the fire broke out, and you never see him again, because that actor had only signed on for one episode.

            You have reached THE END of this path. You get an ending score of zero points, because now my search history includes “X-Files bees.”


	9. Skip to the Exciting Stuff

            I like the way you think.

            Okay, skipping to some exciting stuff…

            “Mulder!” you scream. You manage to grab his arm and he hangs there, saved from his fate of falling off Abraham Lincoln’s gigantic head only by your grasp. “Hang on!” you order.

            “Believe me, Scully,” he grunts, “I’m not planning on letting go.”

            You lie there atop Mount Rushmore. Your left hand clutches the railing, and your right hand is the only thing that stops Mulder from becoming a splotch on the Great Emancipator’s nose. You feel as if you might split down the middle if you keep this up much longer.

            “It’s okay,” you hiss, tears leaking from your eyes. “It’s okay. Ralph is getting help.” These assurances are for yourself as much as they are for Mulder.

            “I know it’s gonna be okay, Scully,” Mulder answers, his left hand attempting to find something to grip onto on Lincoln’s stone hairdo. “But in case it’s not, I—”

            “It’s going to be fine,” you interrupt him, clenching your eyes shut. “Help is on the way.”

            “Scully, I—”

            “Help is here!”

            You open your eyes to see Ralph running to you, with three others right behind him. They have a rope, and in a matter of seconds they manage to hoist Mulder to safety.

            “Ralph,” Mulder gasps, “remind me to give you a raise.

            Ralph blinks at him. “But you don’t pay me anything. I’m an unpaid intern.”

            “Ralph,” you amend, helping Mulder to his feet, “remind us to write you letters of recommendation.”

            “I’ll hold you to that!” Ralph announces, and the three of you walk down the path arm in arm. Then a few seconds later he clears his throat. “Agent Scully?” he says.

            “Yes, Ralph?”

            “I’m reminding you to write me a letter of recommendation.”

            “Oh Ralph!” Mulder chuckles affectionately. “That’s our intern!”

            The three of you laugh uproariously.

            EXECUTIVE PRODUCER CHRIS CARTER

            Okay, so maybe I jumped a little too far forward. It seems like you and Mulder have an unpaid intern named Ralph now? And for some reason Mulder was hanging from Mount Rushmore?

            It all turned out well enough. And Ralph seems competent. You’ve reached THE END of this path, and your ending score is 60.


	10. Throw the Card Away

You toss the phone number into Skinner’s wastebasket.

  
“You’re just going to throw that away?” Skinner demands, raising his eyebrows. “He’s not just going to let that go!”

  
“Eh,” you shrug, “what’s he gonna do? Kill me? Kill Mulder?” 

  
“Well…maybe,” Skinner replies.

  
“He can’t kill us,” you point out. “I’m immortal. And Mulder’s like…” you screw your eyes up as you attempt to untangle this show’s batshit crazy mythology, “he’s the chosen one or something? Wasn’t there a prophecy?”

  
Skinner shrugs. “I really can’t remember. This mythology is completely incoherent at this point…well…” He’s interrupted by the ringing of his telephone. “Excuse me, Agent Scully, one moment…” He picks up the telephone. “Assistant Director Skinner—oh, hello…mhmmm...I see…” He hangs up the phone and looks at you. “Agent Scully,” he announces, “I’ve just discovered that my nephew has been arrested for murder!”

Scully! What are you going to do about this? Will you...

 

[Do nothing. Don't you and Mulder have a case in Iowa right now?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29331024)

 

OR

  
[Screw Iowa—Skinner’s murderous nephew is your case now!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29333538)


	11. Join Mulder for the Case in Iowa

"Well, good luck with that," you say to Skinner, and leave his office. You join Mulder back down in the basement, tell him to cut out the slideshow presentation, and just tell you why you two are headed to Iowa.

He explains something about crop circles, and oh jeez,  _crop circles, Mulder? Really?_

Before you know it, you and Mulder are waiting in line to board your plane. A stewardess comes up to you and informs you that the plane was overbooked, and as a result, the one of you has been bumped up to first class.

Okay, Scully, how do you play this?

Do you...

[Grab the first class ticket for yourself](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29331696) OR

[Insist Mulder take the first class seat](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29331903)


	12. Scully in First Class

You deserve it, Scully, you really do! Before you know it, you are living the high life, drinking mimosas and eating macadamia nuts.  

Eventually you drift off to sleep, but you're jerked awake when the plane lurches forward.

  
There’s screaming all over the plane—the plane seems to right itself, but the screaming doesn’t stop—in fact, it’s only becoming louder, even though the plane seems to be perfectly still. The kid next to you is full on flipping out, screaming and thrashing in his seat. His copy of Superfudge flies right over your head.

  
And then a tremendous sucking sound starts and it suddenly becomes very hard to breathe. The oxygen masks drop down. You start to put yours on, and then help the Superfudge kid put his mask on.

You look around to figure out what’s happened. You can’t move very far, obviously, because of that oxygen mask you are currently dependent on, but it soon becomes clear to you that something is going on in the economy section. You can hear screaming in addition to that strange sucking noise, and a whole lotta beeping and wailing, like there’s an episode of Cops playing in there.

  
You were in an episode of Cops once. Remember that? How did that not get brought up more?

  
Eventually the weird sucking noise stops. The plane shudders and then becomes stable again, and the screaming from the economy section becomes even louder.  
An announcement comes over the intercom.

  
“Ladies and gentlemen, we apologize for the depressurization. We have restored pressure to the cabin, and are looking into the cause of it. You may take your oxygen masks off now. However, we ask that you please remain in your seats."

You are a federal agent and a medical doctor. Somehow, you doubt that announcement applies to you. 

You race to the economy section expecting to see--well, you don't even  _know_ what you were expecting to see, but certainly not this.

Mulder is there talking to an alien.

At least, you  _assume_ it's an alien. It's a four feet tall mass of blue sludge. It doesn't have any clear facial features, but ridges occasionally ripple across its...body. Is "body" the right word?

In any case, Mulder is standing in the aisle, excitedly speaking to  _whatever_ that is. He looks very happy.

The other passengers do not. Some are screaming, some are just petrified.

"Mulder!" you scream from the other side of the plane. "What's going on?"

"Oh, Scully!" He waves you over! "Glorbnax," he waves to the blue mass of ooze, "this is my friend I was tell you about. Scully," he waves to you, "this is Glorbnax."

Uhh...

The ridges in the ooze  _almost_ seem to wrinkle into a smile.

"Sorry, Scully," Mulder says, "but Glorbnax can only maintain a mental link with one human at a time. But he says hello, and that it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Mulder...what's going on?"

"Glorbnax is an alien from Proxima Centauri b," Mulder informs you. His smile is the widest you've ever seen it. "Alien life, Scully! He's what stopped the plane!"

"Uh..."

"He and I got to talking when he was collecting some DNA samples from me," Mulder continues, "and I found out that he's actually the artist who created the crop circles that we're going to Iowa to see. So after  _that_ I just had to get his autograph," he holds up one of the photos he'd printed out of the crop circles. It now has a big blue splotch on it, "and then Glorbnax decided that humans are further along the evolutionary cycle than he thought, so he's decided not to wipe our memories after all, and instead he's going to give us the secret to immortality. Isn't that great?!" He looks down at the ball of goo. "Thanks Glorbnax, you're the best!" He pauses for a moment and nods his head. "I'll tell her." He turns back to you. "Glorbnax says he would love to discuss human anatomy with you. He wants to know what our spleen does. It'll take a while before his mental connection with me expires, but once it does, can he link with you?"

"Uh...I guess?"

"She says yes, Glorbnax!" Mulder says, shooting the blue ooze a thumbs up. "Okay, so," he claps his hands together, "I'm going to go up and inform the pilot that we've discovered alien life--no big deal--and that we're good to land and--and should we call up Skinner? I feel like we should call up Skinner...", He wanders away in the direction of the cockpit, and Glorbnax follows close behind.

You collapse into Mulder's seat, pick up the crop circle photo that Mulder has left behind, and run your finger along Glorbnax's "autograph." Some of the ooze comes off on your finger, and you shake it off.

You have reached THE END of this path. So Mulder just befriended an alien life form, apparently? That's cool. So your end score is +85 points.

 


	13. Scully in Economy

Aw, what a good partner you are! Mulder doesn't deserve you!

So you sit in economy and then...

And then you can't remember anything. Like,  _anything_. And that includes  _your own identity._

That's weird. You're just sitting there, vaguely wondering why you are in a plane and if  _you_ were the one who got the wrong answers in the in-flight magazine jumble when a man walks up to you.

"Scully!" he calls, and you wonder if that's your name. "What happened in here?" he asks.

Good question, stranger.

You eye him curiously and ask him if you know him.

"Um, yeah," the man says, looking at you like you are an idiot, which you  _don't appreciate._ "I'm Mulder--" He pauses. "Who are you?" he asks.

Again, excellent question. This man does ask good questions. Too bad he has such bad taste in ties.

You shrug. "Not sure..." You reach into your pocket and pull out a badge. "Apparently I'm Dana Katherine Scully...and I work for the FBI?" You shrug again. This is news to you.

Uh oh. You've got amnesia. That's not good. Look, you'll probably be fine. That man seems to be looking into whatever weird thing happened. So maybe just leave it up to him for now? He can probably handle this.

You have reached THE END of this path. You lost your memories...and that's not good. But it'll probably be okay within the next 45 minutes or so. Maybe 90 minutes if it's a two-parter. So your end score is +15 points.


	14. Take Skinner's Case

 "I didn't do it, Uncle Wally, I swear!" insists Nathan.   
  
Skinner sighs heavily. "Nathan," he says, "you can't keep doing this."  
  
"How many times has he been arrested for murder?" demands Mulder. His eyebrows have shot as high on his brow as you've ever seen them...which, all things considered, is still not that high.  
  
"Oh, it's never been murder before," Skinner admits. "First it was graffiti, then pot," he nods his head back and forth as he recites his nephew's rap sheet, "then drunk and disorderly, then pot again..." he glares at Nathan and puts his hands on his hips. "And now murder. Nathan, this really takes the cake!"  
  
"I already told you, Uncle Wally, it wasn't me!" Nathan insists. He looks down at the ground and mumbles something about how his uncle doesn't need to get so bent out of shape.  
  
Okay, Scully, it's time to question the perp. How do you want to play this?  
  
[Good cop?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29333625)

OR

  
[Bad cop?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29339577)


	15. Good Cop

“Nathan,” you say gently, patting the upset 19 year-old on his shoulder, “Nate…can I call you Nate?”

  
Nathan looks at you warily, but nods.

  
“I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation here,” you say calmly. “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation why you were discovered standing over the murder victim, just like I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation why you were covered in their blood, and I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation why you were holding the murder weapon. But Nate,” you pat him once more reassuringly, “we can’t help you if we don’t know what that reasonable explanation is.”

  
Now it’s time for the bad cop.

  
“Listen up you little shit!” both Mulder and Skinner yell at the same time, banging on the table.

  
They look at each other awkwardly for a moment, and then both turn to Nathan.

  
“We know you killed him!” they yell again, once more in perfect unison.

  
“Mulder,” you sigh, “don’t you have some crop circles to investigate or something?”

  
“Damn straight!” Mulder shouts and leaves the room.

  
Skinner clears his throat, and then turns on his nephew once more. “Listen up you little shit!” he exclaims, pounding the table again. “We’ve got death threats you sent to the victim, we’ve got video surveillance of you entering the victim’s house just ten minutes before he died, and we’ve got you literally red handed you motherfu—”

  
Nate looks at his uncle aghast. “Uncle Wally, what the—”

  
You smack Skinner. “Take a walk man!” you yelp and turn to Nathan. “I can’t control him—you gotta tell us what you know!”

  
“I know you’re doing the good cop/bad cop routine!” shouts Nathan. “I’ve seen Law & Order!”

  
“Oh? Is that right, buddy?” Skinner breathes in Nathan’s ear. His arm snakes around Nathan’s neck—not choking him, but just there. “You seen Law & Order? I bet you love murder shows, don’t you, you sick bastard?”

  
Nathan doesn’t look scared, just creeped out. “Come on, Uncle Wally, who do you think you’re kidding?”

  
“Bet you just loooooove crime shows,” Skinner continues, still speaking right by Nathan’s ear. “NYPD Blue, Homicide: Life on the Street, Murder She Wrote, Columbo—”

  
Nathan just glares at Skinner. “You’re being a tool, Uncle Wally,” he says, crossing his arms against his chest. “I wanna talk to my lawyer.”

  
Looks like Nathan’s refusing to talk. How should you and Skinner investigate this?

  
[Look at the scene of the crime?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29339721)

 

OR

  
[Watch a bunch of episodes of Columbo for inspiration](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29333736)


	16. COLUMBO!

You and Skinner spend literally three days sitting on your couch watching Columbo. On Saturday Mulder uses his key to get into your apartment, and finds the two of you staring in rapt attention at your television, surrounded by Post-it notes that say things like "The wife is the KEY!", "glass eye--look into it?", and "who is the biggest name star? Nathan's bandmate?"  
  
"There you are!" Mulder explodes. "Why aren't you picking up your phones?"  
  
"They were interrupting Columbo," you murmur. "We turned them off."  
  
"Now you're interrupting Columbo," Skinner points out. "Wish we could turn you off."  
  
Not lifting your eyes from Peter Falk, you and Skinner high five.  
  
Perhaps accustomed to being insulted, Mulder takes this slam in stride. He instead walks to your window and opens it, waving his arms as if that will hurry the air out. "It STINKS in here!" he announces. "How long have you been here?"  
  
You struggle to do the math. "Each episode of Columbo is 90 minutes long, about 7 episodes a season..."  
  
Mulder rolls his eyes and turns off the television.  
  
"You bastard!" You surge from your seat and slap Mulder right across his face. "We'd almost cracked the case"  
  
Skinner has likewise leapt from his seat. He's taken out his gun and is aiming it at Mulder.  
  
"Put the remote down..." he says slowly, "and no one needs to get hurt..."  
  
Mulder puts down the remote and, in his 'hostage negotiation' voice, "I think you two have a problem."  
  
"Ha!" you exclaim, turning the television back on, "looks to me like you're the one with a problem! You've got the gun in your face."  
  
"Yeah, Spooky!" chimes in Skinner.  
  
"Nathan confessed," Mulder informs you. "He admits he killed his roommate because he was blackmailing him."  
  
You shush Mulder for interrupting Columbo.  
  
"He's facing a life in prison," Mulder tries again, this time speaking directly to Skinner. "He wants you to speak at his sentencing hearing."  
  
Skinner shushes Mulder.  
  
"I proved that the crop circles really were caused by aliens..." Mulder says. He holds up a copy of the Washington Post headlined, "Welcome Alien Visitors!"  
  
"Be quiet, Mulder!" you snap, gesturing at the screen. "It's the best part!"  
  
"One more thing!" Peter Falk says. You and Skinner mouth the words along with him.  
  
Mulder sighs and walks out.  
  
You have reached THE END of this path. Your end score is +34, because you wasted a lot of time watching Columbo. 


	17. Stick with the Flerfenvueller 241

            It’s the Flerfenvueller 241 or die, you decide. You will accept no substitutions. You pay for the desk and arrange delivery. When you and Mulder return to the office, Mulder is still sulking about having missed the plane to Iowa for, as it turns out, no reason at all.

            “You can reschedule our flight for tomorrow,” you remind him, unconcerned. “I’m sure we can find something else to occupy us today…”

            “Like what?” Mulder demands.

            It’s a good question, actually, because for once, you and Mulder are up to date on your reports, invoices—everything. Except…

            You glance at the calendar. It’s March.

            “We could do our taxes…” you suggest.

            So you and Mulder spend the rest of the day completing your taxes. You pull a chair up to his desk and soon it’s a mess of pay stubs and forms, his documents and your documents completely mixed up. It’s such a mess that you are halfway through calculating your deductions before you realize that you’ve written down _his_ information, not yours.

            Ugh, this is such a pain. Still, it’s what pays your salary, so you of all people shouldn’t be complaining.

            As you gaze at the mixed documents, an idea slowly occurs to you.

            You look at Mulder, and wonder if the idea is too wild.

            Do you…

            [Suggest your brainstorm to Mulder,](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29339550) OR

            [Just get these taxes done](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29339487)


	18. Gotta Get those Taxes Done

            Nah, best to just get those taxes done.  Don't let yourself get distracted.

            Soon, you and Mulder have dotted your i’s and crossed your t’s. You mail your taxes out and leave for your respective homes.

            Okay, so maybe you didn’t get any _work_ done today, but it was still pretty productive. Good job. You have reached THE END of this path. You get an END score of +50, because you literally just wound up doing paperwork.


	19. Suggest your Brainstorm

            “Mulder…” you say slowly.

            “Mmm?” He doesn’t look up from his pile of receipts, though he does pause to push his glasses up his nose.

            “I think we should get married,” you announce.

            Oh, wow. Yep, this is your idea.

            _This_ gets his attention. He gapes at you, and the pencil that he had been chewing falls to his lap.

            “Huh?” he says.

            “We’d save a couple thousand if we filed jointly,” you inform him. “That’s what gave me the idea.”

            “Uh…”

            “Additionally,” you continue, primly placing your clasped hands on your lap, “it struck me that it would be beneficial for us to be married, because then we would be our next of kin, and would make decisions for each other when we’re hospitalized, which is a regular occurrence.”

            Mulder doesn’t say anything. He just continues to stare at you.

            “Also,” you say, your tone flat and emotionless, “this would save us from having to testify against each other, which, let’s face it, is just a matter of time.”

            Mulder nods slowly. He can’t deny the logic of that point.

            “Yeah…” he murmurs. He’s looking past you, and you can tell he’s turning the idea around in his mind. “And you want to have a kid, and being married would help you with the adoption process…”

            That hadn’t even occurred to you. Yes, that is a consideration.

            But Mulder has an objection. “Aren’t you worried that if we get married, our enemies might try to target one of us to get to the other?”

            “Except they already do that,” you remind Mulder, who seems to have forgotten about the dozen or so times that has occurred to one or the other of you.

            “Couldn’t this hurt our careers?”

            “I don’t see how,” you reply. “We’re literally in the basement; no one wants our jobs. Also, in light of all of the other reasons the powers that be have to shut down the X-Files, us being married hardly seems like a ruling consideration. And also, when I last spoke with the Smoking Man, he actually seemed to be rooting for us…” You pause to remember your excursion with the Smoking Man. What a strange car ride that was.

            Mulder has one last objection. “But what if you want to get married to someone else?” he asks.

            “There’s always divorce,” you point out. “Also, I never meet anyone eligible, anyway. And also I’m in love with you, so I don’t see that’s happening.”

            “You’re in love with me?” Mulder laughs. “What a coincidence! _I’m_ in love with _you!”_

The two of you high five over your good fortune. “Well, _that_ worked out,” you say.

            “Okay,” Mulder gets up and picks up his coat. “I guess we should get married then. Let’s go.”

            He opens the door for you and follows you out of your basement office.

            “Also,” you add as you press the button for the elevator, “since we are only one floor down, we should probably take the stairs instead of the elevator more often.”

            Mulder nods. “Right, that makes sense. And we should come up with a code phrase to use in the event that one of us is impersonated by someone else.”

            “Good point,” you agree. Then you add: “Also, in the future, we should take pictures when we come across crime scenes.”

            You and Mulder take the stairs up, make a code phrase, get married, and live happily ever after.

            You have reached THE END of this path. Your ending score is +100 because you and Mulder both displayed very logical decision making.


	20. Play Bad Cop

            “Listen up you little puke!” you snarl, smashing your fist on the metal table with a forcefulness that scares Nathan as much as it hurts you. “You’re gonna tell us everything you know before I grab you by that rat tail and—”

            “Calm _down,_ Agent Scully!” Skinner yells, physically restraining you from pummeling Nathan. Skinner addresses Nathan: “Kid, you gotta tell us everything! I don’t know how much longer I can hold her back!”

            Nathan goggles at both of you. “I _want_ to tell you what happened,” he exclaims. “I’m trying to—”

            You break free of Skinner’s grasp and whisper in Nathan’s ear. “You know what my nickname is?” you ask. “They call me ‘Psycho.’ You know how I—”

            “Take a _walk,_ Scully!” Skinner shouts. He again speaks to Nathan. “She’s a loose cannon, kid. Make things easier on yourself and just—”

            “How can I?” Nathan explodes. “You won’t let me get a word—”

“You know what we did to punks like you during the war?” you hiss at Nathan. “We’d get two knives: one razor sharp, and one _very_ dull—and then we’d—”

            “What _war?”_ Nathan demands.

            “Goddamnit, Scully!” Skinner yells. “This isn’t the war anymore! We have _rules_ here!”

            “I don’t see any rules!” you scream, kicking an empty chair because, hey, why not? “All I see is a little punk ass that no one would miss if I—”

            “Okay, okay!” Nathan yells, holding his hands up. “I did it! I murdered him! Just stop!”

            You and Skinner freeze your act and stare at Nathan.

            “He was blackmailing me, so I killed him!” Nathan yells. “I confess, all right? Just stop it!”

            Oh. Well…it seems like the good cop/bad cop routine actually worked. And also…um…Skinner’s nephew is a murderer, apparently?

            You cracked the case! Good job. You have reached THE END of this path, and your ending score is +70.


	21. Investigate the Scene of the Crime

            You and Skinner go to the crime scene to investigate: Nathan and the murder victim’s crummy apartment. The police have left an outline of the body. According to the report, the roommate, whose name is Owen, was stabbed five times by a left-handed man. Skinner mentions that Nathan is in fact left-handed.

            “What we need,” you announce, “is another suspect. Who may have wanted to kill Owen?”

            “Owen was a professional DJ,” Skinner mentions.

            You ask how much that pays, and Skinner must be following your logic, because he nods to the expensive stereo and television in the corner. “Not enough to pay for that. And considering Nathan’s a student with no income, I’d be surprised if those were _his_ contributions.”

            You walk into Nathan’s room, which is a mess: used pizza-boxes, a glass half-filled with a substance that has long since transcended “milk,” and so many clothes on the floor, you aren’t sure what the flooring _is._

            You sniff the air a few times. Beyond the smell of spoiled dairy products, there is something else—something skunky…

            You raise an eyebrow at Skinner, who’s glowering at the mess.

            “It’s more or less how I imagined it…” he admits.

            “There’s nothing in here that would indicate Nathan has much money…” you comment, studying the poster taped to the wall for a heavy metal band called “RANCID THRASHER.”

            Skinner nods his head in agreement.

            “What does Nathan study?” you ask Skinner. You have to ask, because you don’t see a textbook anywhere in the room.

            “Business…” Skinner replies, grimly examining a bong shaped like a hand extending its middle finger.

            Skinner has to leave the room, citing the smell. The smell probably _would_ be overwhelming to someone lacking your iron stomach. You poke around Nathan’s room for a few more minutes, finding porn, a doodled-upon class syllabus for an introductory macroeconomics class, and a stray slice of fuzzy pepperoni. After washing your hands, you join Skinner in Owen’s room which is passably neat, and immediately betrays Owen as a man of expensive tastes. Premium hair products, a vintage Gibson guitar, and a whole wall of barely-worn designer sneakers…

            “I just got a call from the detective in charge of this case,” Skinner informs you. “He says that estimates by Owen’s friends put his income at about $250 or $300 a week. And he doesn’t come from a rich family.”

            “So he must be supplementing the money somehow…” you deduce. “And probably recently, considering he’s still living in this cheap apartment.”

            Well, not _still_ living, Scully, but Skinner doesn’t bother to correct you. Mulder would probably make a joke here, but Mulder’s not here right now, is he?

            “When the police searched the apartment, they found $8,000 stashed under this mattress…” Skinner lifts the mattress to show you the hiding spot, though by now the money has been removed and put into evidence. “So I think it’s fair to guess he was earning money through less than legitimate means.”

            “Selling drugs?” you suggest, privately thinking that Owen probably had a potential customer close at hand.

            “Maybe…”

            Next up, you inspect the bathroom. Given that Nathan is responsible for one half of its upkeep, you’re expecting it to be a bit of a disaster area, but to your surprise, it’s actually spotless.

            “Not what you expected?” Skinner suggests as he follows you into the room.

            “Did we happen to come in right after the spring cleaning, or do you think the murder had something to do with this?” you ask Skinner.

            “Neither.” He informs you that on the occasions over the last year when he has visited his nephew, each time he found the bathroom similarly spotless. “I take it Owen was responsible for cleaning it.”

            You open the cabinet and inspect the vast array of cleaning agents along with sodium thiosulfate and ammonium thiosulfate.

            And clothespins. And a clothesline. And pans. And a red lightbulb.

            You frown as an idea starts to form. It looks like the supplies someone would need to develop photos.

            “Was Owen a photographer?” you ask.

            “Not professionally,” Skinner tells you. He pauses and ducks back into Owen’s room. You hear him opening a few drawers. “But there _is_ an expensive camera in here. And a box of film,” he calls. He returns to the bathroom holding the camera. “What are you thinking?” he asks.

            What _are_ you thinking, Scully?

            [That Owen moonlighted as a photographer to supplement his income](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29339856)

            [That Owen blackmailed people to supplement his income](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29340144)


	22. Moonlighting

            At the end of the day, you and Skinner can’t really take over the investigation. For one thing, this is the state’s jurisdiction. For another, Skinner poses a clear conflict of interest. And also, this isn’t an X-File. So you call up the detective who, you know, actually _does_ have the authority to work this case and tell him your supposition about Owen’s moonlighting business. The detective thanks you for your assistance and says he’ll pursue that angle.

            You find out later that the police are unable to find another suspect. Without another suspect, a jury of Nathan’s peers swiftly convict him, and Nathan’s sent to prison. On the day Nathan’s sentence is delivered, you and Skinner head out to a bar and drink in silence.

            You have reached THE END of this path. Boy, this ending’s kind of a bummer, isn’t it? Your ending score is +27.


	23. Blackmailing

            At the end of the day, you and Skinner can’t really take over the investigation. For one thing, this is the state’s jurisdiction. For another, Skinner poses a clear conflict of interest. And also, this isn’t an X-File. So you call up the detective who, you know, actually _does_ have the authority to work this case and tell him your supposition about Owen’s blackmail business. The detective thanks you for your assistance and says he’ll pursue that angle.

            You find out later that your guess about Owen’s blackmailing business was right. The police discovered he was blackmailing about a dozen people, including Nathan. You never _do_ find out what Owen was blackmailing Nathan for, but in any case, this sudden influx of suspects is enough to inject reasonable doubt in the case against Nathan. He’s found innocent, and you and Skinner make plans to go out for celebratory drinks.

            It does annoy you, though, that the police never got a good confession out of any of the suspects. Before you leave the office, you discuss the case with Mulder who, like you, has been following the case. When you ask Mulder who he thinks murdered Owen, he casts a furtive look at the hallway, shuts the door to your office, and says quietly that he’s almost certain that Nathan did it. You never ask him _why_ he thinks that; honestly, you’re happier not knowing. But it’s enough to cast a pall over your night out with Skinner, and you wind up just having one beer with him and leaving the bar early, claiming you have a headache.

            You have reached THE END of this path. That’s kind of an unsatisfying ending. Your ending score is +38.


	24. Try to Charm Marge

Oh God, are you really doing this? Mulder, are you sure? Mulder, really? This is an HR complaint waiting to happen, and all over a stupid projector. Can’t you just print out the crop circle photos and show them to Scully?

  
Okay, fine. Fine, we’re doing this. 

  
How do you want to charm Marge?

  
[Compliment her?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29340909) OR

  
[Alien-themed pick-up line?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29340765)


	25. Alien Pick-up Line

            “Hey Marge,” you rumble in what you assume is your sexiest voice. “Are you a 1977 science fiction film by Steven Spielberg? Because I think we should have a close encounter of the--”

            Marge shoves the old projector at you. “Get out,” she hisses.

            Okay, that didn’t work. [Crummy projector it is.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29343096)


	26. Compliment

            “I understand,” you say, leaning on the wall of Marge’s cubicle. “Hey,” you point to a picture on Marge’s desk. “Is that you and your sister?”

            “Oh, yeah,” Marge glances at the picture and nods.

            “You two look so much alike…” you murmur, sitting at the corner of her desk and picking up the picture to study it closely. “But your eyes are...better shaped,” you fumble, but Marge seems to be into it. She's smiling at you. You lean in closer and lower your voice. "And your hair is...shinier...?"

            _Shinier?_ Uh...

            Marge giggles and pushes the the good projector to you. "Oh, go on, Fox!" she laughs.

            Oh, wow. That worked?

            Suck it, financial crimes section!

            You’ve just finished setting up the projector in the basement office by the time Scully enters.

            “Pack your bags, Scully!” you exclaim, clicking your slideshow presentation on. “We’re headed to Iowa!”

            Scully glares at you. “I literally just got here,” she snaps. “Couldn’t you have called me up to tell me to pack my bags so I wouldn't have to go back to my apartment?”

            You ignore her. “We’ve got crop circles!” You click to a picture of crop circles. “Crop circles!” You click to another crop circle. “And more crop circles!” You flash through twelve more photos of crop circles. “All appearing within the last two weeks in Bretsfield, Iowa!”

            Scully leans against your desk, folds her arms across her chest, and glares at you. “Would it do any good to point out to you that crop circles are a hoax?”

            "Oh Scully," you laugh and shake your head, "Scully, Scully, Scully," you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth. "No," you finally answer. "It wouldn't." You throw a plane ticket at her. “See you at Dulles at 11:05 for takeoff!”

            Scully does wind up making it to Dulles on time for an 11:05 takeoff. She’s shooting daggers at you, but hey, she’s normally annoyed at you anyway, so you’re not that concerned about it.

            You hold out your tickets for a flight attendant to scan, and she flinches and studies her computer screen. “So sorry,” she tells you, “but it appears that our flight is overbooked…”

            Okay, time to turn that charm on again. You study the flight attendant's hair so you can use an adjective other than "shiny," but thankfully it doesn’t come to that, because the flight attendant informs you that she can bump one of your up to first class.

            Which one of you gets first class and which one of you is stuck in coach?

            [Take coach—Scully’s already pissed off at you as it is](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29344833) OR

            [Take first class—hey, Scully’s _already_ pissed off at you as it is!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29341275)


	27. Mulder in First Class

            You, Fox William Mulder, were born for first class. You take a luxurious sip from your champagne and chomp on macadamia nuts.

            “Excuse me!” you wave down a steward. “Another steamed toilette, please,” you request.

            You need something to get the macadamia-nut-salt off your fingers before you attempt the inflight magazine’s crossword puzzle.

            Maybe you’ll even be able to get some sleep on this flight. It’s completely quiet here. Even the _kids_ are better behaved in first class—the kid next to you hasn’t made a sound the entire flight, and is completely absorbed in _Superfudge._

            Once you’ve completed the crossword puzzle, you move onto flipping through Sky Mall. It starts out as a joke, but you slowly become more and more serious about buying the life-size E.T. dressed in a Santa outfit. You’re considering where in your apartment you could even put such an item when the plane seems to lurch forward. Your champagne glass skids off the tray table and spills all over your pants.

            There’s screaming all over the plane—the plane seems to right itself, but the screaming doesn’t stop—in fact, it’s only becoming louder, even though the plane seems to be perfectly still. The kid next to you is full on flipping out, screaming and thrashing in his seat. His copy of _Superfudge_ knocks you in the head. It’s a hardcover, too.

            And then a tremendous sucking sound starts and it suddenly becomes very hard to breathe. The oxygen masks drop down. You start to put yours on, but notice that that kid next to you can’t seem to get it together.

            Do you...

            [Help the kid with his mask. Look at the guy--he's so  _bad_ at this](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29344872) OR

            [Oh no, you paid attention to the emergency announcements. You finish putting on your own mask first.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29341779)


	28. Put your own Mask on First

            Momma Mulder didn’t raise no chump! You put on your mask first, breathing in that sweet, sweet Element Eight.

            O-utstanding.

            Get it?

            Anyway, eventually you get around to helping that kid. Once you’ve done so, you look around to figure out what’s happened. You can’t move very far, obviously, because of that oxygen mask you are currently dependent on, but it soon becomes clear to you that something is going on in the economy section. You can hear screaming in addition to that strange sucking noise, and a whole lotta beeping and wailing, like there’s an episode of _Cops_ playing in there.

            You were in an episode of _Cops_ once. Remember that? How did that not get brought up more?

            Eventually the weird sucking noise stops. The plane shudders and then becomes stable again, and the screaming from the economy section stops all at once.

            An announcement comes over the intercom.

            “Ladies and gentlemen, we apologize for the depressurization. We have restored pressure to the cabin, and are looking into the cause of it. You may take your oxygen masks off now. However, we ask that you please remain in your seats.

            Screw that!

            You take off your mask and leap from your seat. A flight attendant runs in and tries to speak with you, but you wave your badge in her face and yell, “Special Agent Fox Mulder, Federal Bureau of Investigation!” which shuts _her_ up good.

            You dash into the economy section to find…

            Everyone just sitting there. Calmly.

            A little confused, sure. They’re looking around curiously speaking softly to each other, but the rich fat cats in first class are _freaking out_ and meanwhile, these plebeians are really taking this sudden depressurization thing in stride. The inner strength of the common man?

            Not likely. You know an X-File when you see one.

            You walk down the aisle, searching for Scully so you can get her hot take on it. You find her sitting in 34C, just sitting there, flipping through her copy of Skymall. She seems to be considering the World’s Biggest Wallet.

            “Scully!” you say, kneeling by her seat. “What happened in here?”

            She looks at you curiously.

            “Excuse me?” she asks. “How do you know my name?”

            Uh…

            “Because you told me…” you say slowly. “Years ago.”

            She frowns. “I’m sorry—I don’t remember you. How do we know each other?”

            “Um…the X-Files?” you try.

            There is no glimmer of recognition.

            Uh-oh, Scully has amnesia. What the Hell happened in Economy?

            And more to the point, what do you do with Scully?

            You glance at your wristwatch and consider with a sinking feeling there is way too much going on right now. I mean, there’s that whole crop circle thing in Iowa, then there’s this plane which just _screams_ aliens, so _that_ probably means _mythology_ , and now Scully has amnesia? No way will this be finished in 45 minutes.

            This is a two parter, isn't it? So you’d better hurry up and try to finish up what you can before--

            EXECUTIVE PRODUCER CHRIS CARTER

            Whoops. Out of time. You have reached THE END of this path. There’s still a lot in the air. Don’t worry, by this time next week, everything will have returned to normal. In the meantime, take an end score of +41.


	29. Stare at Mulder

Gee whiz Mulder is one good-looking guy. You gaze at his lower lip, which he is currently running against his finger to staunch the bleeding that resulted from the projector breaking.  
  
Silly Mulder. That won't work. That's not a sound medical practice.  
  
You consider giving him some medical advice, but get distracted by the way one of his brown locks of hair dangles over his brow. You're tempted to tenderly brush it aside, but catch yourself as Mulder burns his wrist on the overheating projector bulb.  
  
"Goddamnit!" Mulder hisses, tears leaking from his captivating hazel eyes. "Why is that thing so HOT?"  
  
Speaking of hot...  
  
You lick your lips and fan your face with a nearby IKEA catalogue, your insides burning at the sound of Mulder's deep voice as he curses, the projector, the financial crimes section, a missing farmer in Iowa, and Dwight and Mamie Eisenhower.  
  
"Fffffffuck!" He roars, and your heart thrills at the sound of him talking dirty.  
  
His athletic frame is now hopping around the office, and he stumbles on a wastebasket, toppling to the floor. Soon his muscular form is prone on the tile floor. You think about how great Mulder would look in that position tangled in your bedsheets.  
  
He grabs the table the projector is on to pull himself up, and soon the projector crashes down, hitting Mulder squarely on his presumably washboard abs.  
  
"Scully..." he whimpers, "Why won't you help me?"  
  
Oh how you love to hear Mulder beg...  
  
"I'm in so much pain..." he cries.  
  
What a baby.  
  
What a babe...  
  
"Oh God..." Mulder sobs.  
  
About ten minutes and 5 more accidents later, Skinner walks in to find the office littered with projector parts, Mulder passed out on the floor, and you lovingly caressing his cheek.  
  
"Uh..." Skinner says.  
  
Mulder is taken to the hospital. When he comes back, you explain your inaction with some story about missing time, and he buys it.  
  
That guy will believe anything.  
  
You have reached THE END of this path. You have an end score of +48.


	30. IKEA

You flip through the IKEA catalog and decide that the Flerfenvueller 241 is a good choice.  
  
"Mulder," you say as you roll up the catalogue and stick it in your bag, "quit fooling around with that. We're going to IKEA."  
  
"Huh?" Mulder looks up from his current activity of trying to duct tape the projector part back onto the projector. "It's 9:05 am on a Tuesday. We can't go shopping."  
  
"I need a desk," you say and walk past him to the hallway. "I've been here for over five years and I still don't have a desk. It's crazy."  
  
Perhaps remembering the last time you brought up your outrageous desire to have a desk in your own office, Mulder sighs and says fine, but adds that you're going to go to Iowa to investigate crop circles tomorrow.  
  
Whatever. Iowa tomorrow, but IKEA today.  
  
The two of you get into your car drive to the nearest IKEA. You ask a salesperson about the Flerfenvueller 241. She regretfully informs you that the model is currently sold out.   
  
"We can have one shipped from another store if you like," she suggests. "Or we have the Flerfenvueller 242, which is very similar."  
  
What do you do, Scully?

[Order the Fflerfenvueller 241 from another store](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29339445)

OR

[Buy the Fflerfenvueller 242 now](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29342583)


	31. Fflerfenvueller 242

You select the similar model and set it up with Mulder in your basement office.

  
“See,” he sniffs, surveying the basement office, “I told you it wouldn’t fit."

  
You roll your eyes and instruct Mulder to push the desk against his desk, which clears up some room in the office. Granted, this means you’ll have to look at Mulder all day.

  
“But better that than me having to constantly sit on your desk,” you murmur. You sit down in your desk. A sense of peace fills you.

  
Finally you have a desk. You swivel a few times in your swivel chair and drum your fingers on the desk top.

  
This is amazing.

  
You spend the rest of the day at Office Max buying high lighters, pens, a blotter, paperclips—all the things that you couldn’t have before because you had no desk.

  
Really—how have you been in the X-Files for so long without a desk? It makes no sense.

  
Later, you buy a sandwich for dinner, and eat it at your desk. Mulder has left by now.

  
Then you go online and order one of those black signs that says “Agent Dana Scully, M.D.” to put on your desk. It should be coming in 5-7 days, and when it does, it will make Mulder’s “Agent Fox Mulder” sign look much less impressive.

  
Everything is right in this world.

  
You have reached THE END of this path. Congratulations on the desk! It's about time! You have an ending score of +81 points.


	32. Crummy Projector

            So you got stuck with the crummy projector. Don’t feel bad, Mulder.

            While you’re setting the projector up, Scully walks into the office. She eyes the projector, groans, and asks if this is going to take much longer.

            You shrug. “It shouldn’t…” you murmur. “I think I’ve almost got it, even though this projector dates back to the Eisenhower administration…damnit!” A piece of the projector comes off in your hand, cutting your palm. You ineffectively try to pound the piece back into the machine, spitting some profanity directed at the financial crimes section.

            Stupid machine!

            Scully sighs and taps the floor impatiently.

            What do you do Mulder?

            [Forget the slideshow—let’s just go to the airport to catch our flight.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29344101) OR

            [Try to smack the projector—hey, it worked for the Fonz.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29343975)


	33. Smack the Projector

            The moment you smack the projector, it bursts into flames.

            Nice going, Fonzi.

            Scully runs out of the office, and you run for the fire extinguisher. Unfortunately, by the time you get to it, fire has spread to your desk. You extinguish the fire, but it has scorched your slides, your plane tickets, and oh yeah, your _desk._

“Mulder…” Scully has reentered the office, “you need to get to a hospital.”

            “I’m fine, Scully!” you cough. “My _desk_ needs to go to the burn ward, though…”

            But Scully doesn’t listen, and she practically drags you to her car so she can take you to the hospital. Which means you miss your plane to Iowa. And you need to get a new desk.

            So it’s not the _best_ day…

            You have reached THE END of this path. You have an ending score of +39.


	34. Skip the Slideshow

            It's less satisfying this way, but fine. You open a folder on your desk and begin shoving pictures at Scully. “We’ve got crop circles! Lots of crop circles! All appearing within the last two weeks in Bretsfield, Iowa!”

            Scully barely glances at the crop circles before she sets them down, folds her arms across her chest, and glares at you. “Would it do any good to point out to you that crop circles are a hoax?”

            "Oh Scully," you laugh and shake your head, "Scully, Scully, Scully," you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth. "No," you finally answer. "It wouldn't." You throw a plane ticket at her. “See you at Dulles at 11:05 for takeoff!”

            Scully does wind up making it to Dulles on time for an 11:05 takeoff. She’s shooting daggers at you, but hey, she’s normally annoyed at you anyway, so you’re not that concerned about it.

            You hold out your tickets for a flight attendant to scan, and she flinches and studies her computer screen. “So sorry,” she tells you, “but it appears that our flight is overbooked…”

            You consider attempting to charm her, but thankfully it doesn’t come to that, because the flight attendant informs you that she can bump one of your up to first class.

            Which one of you gets first class and which one of you is stuck in coach?

            [Take coach—Scully’s already pissed off at you as it is](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29344833) OR

            [Take first class—hey, Scully’s _already_ pissed off at you as it is!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737529/chapters/29341275)


	35. Mulder in Coach

            Chivalry is not dead.

            So you sit in coach. It’s not the greatest. The couple sitting next to you bickers and someone has already done the jumble in your inflight magazine, but hey, at least Scully has a break.

            But then things get weird. The plane lurches, scattering your collection of crop circle photos. The world seems to explode in bright light.

            You pass out for a moment, and you awaken from a sharp pain on the side of your head.

            “Ouch!” you yelp, clasping your hand at the side of your head. Then you open your eyes and see…

            A pile of blue goo. In the plane’s aisle.

            You blink your eyes open and shut a few times. Yep, that’s a pile of blue goo. It has tentacle-like limbs that are currently clutching several strands of your hair.

            I’ll make things clear for you, Mulder: this is an alien. An alien just boarded this plane. And collected a DNA sample from you. The four foot tall mass doesn’t seem to have a face, just strange ridges that ripple across its being, gobbling up this show’s CGI budget.

            Well, what are you wating for, Mulder? It’s an alien. Isn’t that the dream?

            “Um…hello,” you say, extending your hand. “Agent Fox Mulder, FBI.”

            The goo doesn’t take your hand. One of its strange tentacle-limbs picks up one of your crop circle photos. The entire mass of ooze shudders for a moment, and then you hear a deep voice echo in your head: “What are you doing with my art?”

             It takes a while, but eventually you come to understand that the strange being has developed a mental link with you. His name is Glorbnax, and he hails from Proxima Centauri b, and was sent here to collect DNA samples. It’s menial labor, he admits, but he needs to do _something_ to put himself through art school.

            “So these crop circles,” you pick up one of the photos, “ _you_ did these?”

            Yes, those are his. He was particularly inspired by the works of Tironux—the way there’s a swirl there, can you see what he means? Unfortunately, this one didn’t come out quite right.

            “I don’t know…” you say, looking at the crop circle with a critical eye. “It looks pretty good to me. In fact,” you show him your badge, “I specialize in studying alien life, so I’ve seen my fair share of crop circles, and this one here,” you pick up the photo of the crop circle at Penniman’s Farm, “is really exceptional. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a crop circle so intricate!”

            Oh, stop! He’s blushing!

            Well, he _says_ he is. It’s kind of hard to tell.

            “In fact,” you feel kind of foolish saying this, but when else are you going to get the opportunity, “could you autograph this for me? If you wouldn’t mind…”

            This really seems to please Glorbnax. He slaps some blue ooze on it, and explains to you that in his language, that splotch means, “To Agent Fox Mulder, never stop believing, -Glorbnax,” which is a nice thought.

            “So, you do this kind of thing often?” you ask, waving your arm to indicate that you mean, ‘stopping planes midflight, boarding them, and collecting DNA samples.’

            Oh yes, he does them all the time, 12 days of the week. Not always on Earth, though. Burilox normally has the Earth route, and Glorbnax is the substitute—he just fills in for whoever has called in sick. He likes it that way, more variety.

            “So…are you going to wipe my memory?” you have to ask.

            _Normally_ yes, that is what would happen at this point, but…well…you seem so _smart._ Maybe humans are further along their evolutionary cycle than Burilox made them out in his report…maybe they’re finally ready to know that aliens watch them. Maybe they are finally ready to learn the secret to immortality.

            You shrug. “Well, we’re not _all_ smart.”

            Glorbnax’s ridges ripple, as if he’s studying the other humans in coach, who are staring at this exchange and whimpering.

            Tell you what, Glorbnax suggests, what about a trial run? If it turns out that humanity can’t handle this knowledge, they’ll use the amnesia ray. They’ve done worldwide amnesias a couple of times. Apparently Glorbnax’s beings _really_ thought humanity could handle it in your year 1594, but then that jerk Walter Norreys screwed everything up and, well…now’s not the time for _that_ story.

            So good job, Mulder, you’ve managed to convince an intelligent alien that _we_ are intelligent beings, and so they’re giving us the secret to immortality. On trial. Until we screw it up, somehow.

            And you made a new friend! Glorbnax seems cool. You and him make plans to go to the Smithsonian together to see their temporary exhibit on Chapman Kelley.

            You have reached THE END of this path. I’d initially planned to have the maximum ending score be +100, but I’ve already used that on another ending and you just gained the secret to immortality, so what the Hell, Mulder, you get an ending score of +112. Good job! It pays to let Scully have the first class seat!


	36. Help the Kid with his Mask

What can I say, Mulder?

You die. You suffocate to death. You  _always_ put your own mask on first. Didn't you pay attention to the safety procedures brochure?

Evidently not. So now you're dead.

You have reached THE END not only of this path, but also of your life. You get an ending score of 0. Because you're dead.


End file.
